2007-05-25: Not Going To Let You Die

Starring:

Cass_icon.gif Lachlan_icon.gif Elena_icon.gif Peter_icon.gif

Guest Starring: Some guy who's about to die at some point this week.

Summary: A mugging goes extremely bad. A long night awaits Lachlan, despite efforts by Elena and Peter. As a consequence, Peter is hospitalized by the end of it himself.

Date It Happened: May 25, 2007

Not Going To Let You Die


Enlightenment Books + Beth Israel hospital

Once again, it's a late closing night for Enlightenment Books again. Ever since reopening, it has had a flood of supporters and customers who were missing their daily and weekly fix of weirdness. Or normalcy, depending on whose viewpoint that is. With her new security system in place, Cass punches in the right numbers, waits to make sure that everything is working and then hurries out the back door so she doesn't accidentally set off her /own/ security system. The front door has too many locks for her to do this properly.

Outside, it's a warm but cloudy night with a blood moon casting a slightly orangey filter over the small alleyway that the backdoor leads out to. Keys already in hand, Cass quickly locks the dead-bolt and the chain in the back. Then, she pauses to make sure she doesn't hear the telltale sound of alarms going off that would mean she totally messed that whole thing up. After a few moments and no loud sirens, she lets out a breath and grins. Ha! Technology isn't /so/ hard.

He had been casing the place for a while, considering just how many people come and go on a regular basis. While the world had given him, essentially, the power to take any job he wanted and not break a sweat about it, he was, for the most part, and underachiever - the easy score was enough, and it's kept him living comfortably. And so he patiently waits for the store to close up, lounging at the back as the bookstore's lights go out. The plan was to go through the back door, empty out the register, and head on his way.

Unfortunately he sees his plans go the way of the dinosaur when Cass steps out of the back door -today-, of all days, and locks it.

Goddamnit.

Once she turns around, she'll see him - and wonder just why the hell someone's hanging out in the alley at the back of her store. People aren't that stupid, even sole proprietors running small businesses in the area. So he keeps his place, shoulder propped against the wall and an easy smile entering his features. He wasn't a bad looking guy - a good two inches over six feet dressed in a nondescript jacket, jeans, and steel-toed boots. An unlit cigarette dangled from his mouth.

By all rights, she was pretty cute too.

"Hey. Got a light?" he asks, suddenly - perhaps startling Cass, moving a hand absently through his short-shorn, dark-blonde hair.

The man leaning against the wall in the alleyway doesn't so much surprise Cass as puzzles her. What is he doing out behind her shop? He was right that she would question that at least. He looks familiar, too. He's been in the store before, she's sure of it. As an attentive shop keep, she tries to remember faces, even if she doesn't remember names. And he's been in the store a couple times.

Digging around in her purse, she pulls out a lighter and holds it out for him to take and light up with. "Uh, yeah. Sure. Here you go. I think I've seen you in the store before, haven't I?" Changing her mind, she tosses it in his direction. Just because he's been in the store before doesn't mean that she should get close. She's been learning her lesson finally.

The man catches the lighter deftly with his fingers, and flicks the flint to light up. The glow of the cherry burns brightly in contrast to their dark environs. Taking a drag, he looks up and gives her a small smile. "Eh? Good memory." Fuck. "Though I didn't peg you to be a smoker. You look like the wholesome sort." He twirls the lighter in his hands just a bit, and he pushes off the wall, walking over to Cass. He hands the lighter to her - she was a lady after all. Besides, with what he can do it might hit her in the face and break it.

He's only looking out for her welfare, you see.

"You be careful now," he says simply. "It's dangerous in the city at night."

And he smiles. While charming during the day, there seems to be a more sinister edge to it at night. It could be the way he tilts his head downward, or how his eyes look up against the top lids when his head is bent. There's a bit of red, s single spot, just a fleck, in his left eye that's blood red - a birth defect, perhaps.

Right. Her welfare. Cass studies the man in the jeans and jacket for a quick moment and then shrugs. "Just 'cause you've been in the store more than once. And there's not a lot unwholesome about smoking. It's just a bad habit." Which she's gotten back into ever since meeting Lachlan. "It is. Thanks." When he steps closer to her, she tenses, but he's only handing her lighter back. "Thanks." She repeats herself and takes a hold of her lighter. She notice that red spot, but it's rude to comment on it. "Have a good night." Because it would be impolite to not wish him the same. She just turns away from him and quickly starts down the alleyway, giving glances over her shoulder.

And when she looks over her shoulder….he's right there. How did he move so quietly? Practice? And how did he get there so fast, he left her to walk a few paces ahead of him. The blond man smiles. "Sorry," he says, and to his credit, he sounds like he means it. "But I forgot something."

The arm lashing out is fast - quick. The callused, gloved fingers move to grab Cass around the throat, and if successful, he pivots around. The twist is almost graceful, if it wasn't for the fact that the impact waiting for Cass on the other side of the alley isn't so pretty. His aim is to essentially make the grab, spin, and smash her cheek-first into the other side of the wall. It's meant to be quick, brutal, but efficient - and the woman didn't look like much anyway.

However he did it, it certainly startles Cass. One second he's yards away and then he's /right/ behind her. Color her surprised because she barely gets a chance to do anything before she's slammed up against the brick wall. All she can manage is a startled, almost muffled shriek and that's what she does right before the impact slams the air out of her lungs. The stranger's observations are correct, Cass isn't much on strength or fighting finesse, but that doesn't mean she's going to go down easily. After the initial stun, she attempts to bite and kick anywhere she can to get him away from her. "Lach!" It may just sound like an 'ack' to the stranger, but it certainly has a different meaning.

Oh no. This was New York. None of the people here went down easy. As Cass claws and bites, one leg moves up to bleed off the strength of the kick, and the bite catches his forearm through his jacket. The thick leather gets Cass-marks on it, but the man didn't look too fazed. He is forced to let go of her neck through struggling, but his arm moves again to grab her arm, in an effort to spin her around and slam her back against the wall on her cheek. And if -that's- successful, his other arm will move, the forearm bent in a hard angle to brace it against the back of her neck and press forward. All this is geared, essentially, to cut off the oxygen flow into Cass's lungs.

"If I chose," he muses. "I can break your neck in three places in this position. Don't force my hand, most don't live through it when they do.

Of course Cass isn't about to go down easy when she's threatened with death and mugging. And who knows what else is being offered by this stranger. As she's already pinned against the wall, there's no real way for her to get out of range of his grab and so she's pressed even further against the wall, gasping in pain and with the inability to breath. No more yelling for her. And less fight. She doesn't want her neck snapped.

Meanwhile, around front, Lachlan stands with a lit cigarette and Bonnie. He doesn't have sharp hearing, but the dog does. Were it not for her, he likely would remain oblivious to the goings-on in the alley — or at least he'd not be going to investigate now rather than later. With the growing Irish wolfhound mixed breed pulling tautly at her leash, he appears at the mouth of the alley and squints down into the dark lane. It takes him a moment to spot the shapes against the wall and a moment more to recognize one of those shapes. The instant he does, however, he's dropped Bonnie's leash and is moving forward, reaching back behind him to pull out the pistol kept in the waistband of his jeans. She's not trained for attack, but as soon as Bonnie's released, she surges down the alley and straight for Cass' attacker, barking viciously.

Someone just joined the party. Cass's mugger narrows his eyes, the red-flecked one turning towards down the alley as he hears the sounds of a barking, growling, snarling dog. Without skipping a beat, he pulls away from the wall, dragging Cass with him. And then? He'll -throw- (well, half-throw, half-shove) Cass towards the dog. While he hated guns - it took away the manly satisfaction of killing someone with his bare hands, looks like he might, might just have to use his own piece. Even as he starts backpedalling down the other end of the corridor quickly. Things, in this alley, are getting too hot.

The sound of barking brings a satisfied look to Cass' eyes, even if she can't say anything. Pulled and then pushed, she goes flying toward Bonnie and Lach, falling in a tumble with her own dog on the attack. There's a surprised squeal from the half grown dog and then she attempts to extract herself from the ground and the dog. Arm wrapped around an aching chest, she takes deep and grateful breaths of air before she keeps her eyes on her mugger and does her best to take a couple steps backward toward Lachlan. One thing is for sure, she's not taking her eyes off this man while she can help it.

Bonnie's aim was to get Bad Man away from Mama, and that's what she did. Sorta. Bonnie is Best Number One Dog Ever. She stands between Cass and the mugger, barking loudly and warningly. Tha's right, /foo'/. You don't mess with Bonnie's mama.

And Lachlan's reaction isn't much different, only it's reinforced by the gun he's got leveled at the mugger. "Yeah, get the /fuck/ outta here!" he shouts in much the same manner he would if he were chasing off a pair of scuffling alley cats (though it is to be noted that he's a little more harsh for this situation). "Ye pansy bastard! Ye come 'round here again, I'll put a bloody bullet in yer empty head!"

The great thing about people who encounter threats they weren't expecting in a dangerous situation is that just because they were armed, it was easy to believe they were off scott-free. He's known the value of deception in his own, crime-free life, even as the dog starts barking. He even pretends to trip, sprawling painfully on his side at his 'retreat', even as Lachlan storms forward growling and yelling at him, and pointing his gun. A hand on his side, he looks up towards the other end of the hall, with Cass and Bonnie on the ground, and the angry Scotsman standing tall.

"You got it!" he calls out. "Just…please….don't kill me." This is when he yanks out his own piece, and points it at Lachlan. The charming smile doesn't look so charming anymore, twisted upwards in a dark smirk as he levels the muzzle towards Lachlan's chest…..and fires. Not once. Twice. Three times, in rapid succession.

Slowly, Cass pushes herself up off the ground as Lachlan threatens the mugger. While she doesn't enjoy violence and /hates/ guns, she's not about to lecture Lachlan on that matter at the moment. She's not sure what makes her anticipate the mugger pulling out a gun and firing, but somehow, she just /knows/ that's what's going to happen next. "/Lach/!" And, just like how she has no idea where the premonition comes from, she has no idea where the reflexes come from to shove him out of the way. But, whatever those reflexes are, they only go so far. Due to physics, or maybe time, the luck that she has to get Lachlan to safety doesn't extend to her. And while she keeps falling, it's more backwards from the impact of the three bullets hitting her instead.

It's the movement that gets Lachlan's attention. Any sudden movements on the mugger's part are sure to trigger an alarm, and like Cass, the Scotsman knows that a weapon is being drawn. Of course, realization and /reaction/ are two different things, and like it or not, one has to happen before the other, however short the split-second is that separates the two. As it is, somewhere in his mind, he's already resigned himself to being shot before he finds himself shoved forcefully out of the way. He staggers, but he's saved — and at first, he doesn't even realize the implications of what's just happened. Everything's happening so fast, he's only got time to latch onto the fact that /he was just shot at/. Bloody— ! With a snarled oath, he raises his gun again and fires wildly at the mugger, emptying the entire nine-round clip as fast as he can.

Bang bang bang. Nine times.

The blond man with the scarlet mote in his eye was already in the process of getting up, when the clip is emptied on him. Blood sprays on the wall as the guy turns to try and dive into the corner that leads out into the street, staggering against the side and almost dropping onto the ground if it wasn't for the adrenaline pumping into his system. Gasping, reaching up to clutch the three bullets that had lodged into his side, and the one that's shrapneled into his collarbone, and one in his shoulder, he's surprised he's still breathing. It hurt to move. Every breath he takes is painful. But he doesn't stop. He keeps moving for the street, staggering outside and making for the nearest shelter quick. Next time, gadget. Next time.

There's a moment of simple shock after being shot that Cass doesn't even understand what happened. There's enough adrenaline and fear running through her system that she doesn't feel it at first. All she knows is that she's falling down to the ground and when she tries to push herself back up like she did before, it hurts. It hurts /a lot/. Before she even realizes it, precious shock has set in. Because she realizes that when she tries to take a breath in it hurts and is hard to. When she looks down, though, she can see blood starting to form from the gunshot wounds to her chest, shoulder and stomach. A startled gasp is all she can manage and, despite /knowing/ it's a bad idea, she tries to pull herself over to the wall so she can sit up.

"/Fucker/," Lachlan hisses under his breath as he watches the mugger slink off. He knows he got the guy. Bonnie's sending 'I can smell blood' signals and the Scot saw the spray of crimson. It's only once the threat is really gone that he allows himself to calm down a bit and glance over toward the last place he saw Cass. Only … she's on the ground. And is that— ?

Lachlan's eyes go wide and his heart and stomach drop about three feet. "Shit." It's spoken quietly under his breath before he bounds over to Cass' side and drops onto his knees, not even caring if they'll bruise as a result. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Cassie? Jesus, baby." Both hands go out to gently press on her shoulders, aiming to keep her still, and his panic-striken eyes can only stare in horror at the growing bloodstains. Oh God, what does he do? What does he do? He doesn't know. This isn't the sort of thing one prepares oneself for. Finally, after several seconds of pure and utter panic, rationality takes over. The Scotsman strips off his shirt quickly and firmly clamps it down on the gut wound. With one free hand, he starts fishing about in his jeans pockets for his cell. "Yer a'righ', Cassie, yer a'righ'. Just stay with me, a'righ'?" God, this is bad. This is /so bad/.

Yet another strange coincidence? Just as the mugger stumbles out into the street and starts running as best as he can down it, he knocks a young woman to the side as he clutches his ribs, shoving other people out of the way in his haste to flee.

"Oof!" Elena grunts, feeling her back impact the glass window of a store that has already closed for the evening, frowning as she watches the fleeing guy run away. "Watch it, you jerk!" she calls out, fuming a bit as she pushes away. God…that was the bus ride from hell, she hopes she isn't too late to intercept Cass before she could leave the store entirely. She had decided to catch her in her closing hours, but traffic, and an accident had delayed her. As she hurries up the street, she sees Cass's store shut down, and the lights out. She -groans-. "Oh no…" she mutters, heading for the door. She could still be there, right? She's a little bit in denial for going -all this way- just to miss people she wants to talk to. And she doesn't want to have to go all the way to Brooklyn…

"Cass?!" she calls out, peering into the darkened windows. "Cass? You still here?"

It doesn't look it. Damn.

It /hurts/ to move and it /hurts/ when Lachlan presses down on her wounds. But it also hurts to breathe. Honestly, it just /hurts/. Everything. Were she the one in Lach's position, she's not sure she wouldn't be panicking either, but things have taken on a surreal tinge. And it's like it's happening to someone else. Lachlan is sucessful in getting her not to move, all she does is just lay there, hands helping, trying to stop the bleeding. "I…he…" she's not sure what she wants to say in this sentence. But every word she speaks hurts. Not to mention the fact that no matter how deep she tries to breathe, it's like she only getting half. Maybe that's because that's exactly what's happening. There's a bullet in her lungs and she has no idea how to fix this. Where is all her medical knowledge? "He…shot me." Observant.

Whimper? There's a puppy face snuffling about near Cass', but it's quickly shoved aside by Lachlan's hand — the one now holding his cell. "Bonnie, /go/," he orders quite sharply, and the dog doesn't hesitate. She trots off a short ways, pauses, then perks up some. Hey, she heard a familiar voice! And off she goes to find the source. Out of the alley, onto the sidewalk, and— O HAI ELENA. Wagwagwag tail. The wiry blonde coat is flecked with fresh red liquid, given Bonnie's proximity to both Cass and Lachlan at the time of the shooting.

Lachlan doesn't note Bonnie's discovery; he's too busy trying to keep his girlfriend from bleeding out on the pavement. "Shh, baby, I know. Dunna … just … just dunna move, a'righ'? Yer … fuck, Cassie." It doesn't matter how hard he tries, he can't stop the bleeding. Not with one hand. In his panicked state, he abandons the cell phone in order to press the palm of his other hand against the wound on Cass' shoulder. His eyes have begun to water and his voice comes out pinched and hoarse: "S'gonna be a'righ'. S'no' tha' bad." Hard to tell which one of them he's trying to convince: her or himself.
Desmond has left.

Elena's about to leave, when Bonnie goes around the alley and wags her tail at her, giving her a bark. She blinks and reaches out to scritch her. "Wait….Bonnie?" she murmurs. "Hey girl, what are you doing here? Where's Lachlan?" She pauses, and turns her eyes down to the dark alley and she could hear voices. She doesn't know what it was, but the pinpricks are there. The hairs at the back of her neck start to rise. Lachlan wouldn't leave Bonnie here roaming free. Not unless…

Her phone is out, just in case. She stands up and starts moving, around the corner she goes. She gets a sick feeling in her stomach, and once she reaches the back of the store, she stares at the figures there. Her stomach drops. "Oh my god….. Lachlan! Cass!" She can't exactly control the volume of her voice, not right now, but she hurries to where they are, getting down on her knees near them and shucking off her bag to toss to the side. Oh my god. Oh my god. There was blood everywhere. "Lachlan, did you call 9-1-1??" she asks. She can't stop and stare, the entire front of her body is covered in blood. "Cass….Cass?" Her hands stretch out towards her, and before she even touches her, her hand jerks back. Cass's body was so full of shock she could feel it even without touching her.

"N-not moving." Cass tells Lachlan. "I'll be fine." Despite his panic, her tone is more dreamy. The body does funny things when it's in real danger of shutting down. Right now, she just can't understand why everyone seems so panicked. Partly because she's being flooded with the good feelings from panicked synapses. "Elena? Hey…" And despite adrenaline and good feelings, she's starting to get kind of tired, too. It's at the edge of her conscious. Now all she wants to do is close her eyes.

Ohboy Elena ohboy! Bonnie is so thrilled, but not /as/ thrilled as she should be to see Elena. She's not a stupid dog, really; she knows that something Very Bad has happened. When Elena becomes part of the gathering around Cass, Bonnie remains on the outskirts, knowing that Lachlan told her to get away once already and sensing from both inherent instinct and the feedback from the Scotsman that this is not a matter into which she should stick her nose.

Due to the high stress of the situation, his panicked state, and the fact that he's still very wired from the gunfight earlier, Lachlan's first instinctive reaction is to attack Elena when she drops down so close by. Fortunately, he's a human with human reasoning, even if some would argue to the contrary. The most hostility she gets from him is a very murderous look. This is quickly replaced by first shock, then slight relief, and then again by the panic that was there in the beginning. "Nah, I … s' … she's …" He trails off with a soft whine of his own, apparently unable to even finish sentences anymore. He simply gives a nod to his cell phone, which lays on the pavement not far from his knee. She can use it. His hands are a bit busy.

Cass' dreamy tone is noted, and it only causes Lachlan to panic more. "Hey," he grunts firmly, giving Cass a minute shake. "Hey, Cassie, stay with me. Dunna /dare/ close yer eyes."

"Tell them to send a vehicle from Beth Israel, Lachlan. It's the closest hospital in this location. She doesn't have a lot of time," Elena whispers. She wants to cry, but there's no time to. There's no time to even panic and Lachlan wasn't in any state to handle it if -she- goes as numb as he is. She shucks off her jacket, feeling the cool air hit her skin, and she tosses it over Cass. Hopefully the cloth will keep the blood from pouring out also. The next thing she does while Lachlan makes the call is shift, moving to lift Cass's slight body just a bit, to drag her to her, and wrap her arms around her.

This was what she did to Eric before. She could feel blood seeping into her clothes. Her grip on Cass tightens, and she tilts her head up. Her control washing over Cass is a gradual thing, just a tiny bit before it spreads, bleeding (hahaha) the shock out of her body slowly and coaxing her body to produce more adrenaline to keep her heart beating. Cass will feel warm, almost tingly. The pain will start to ebb. Keeping someone alive this way, she found in past experience, takes a lot out of her, but damn it, she's going to try.

Her breathing escalates just a little bit. She'll hang on for as long as she can, before the EMTs come.

The shake given to her by Lachlan is enough to elicit a bit of a whimper from Cass. The pain was starting to ebb away, but she was also getting so sleepy. The pain is enough to banish that, though, and she grimaces. "Not…" Just as Lachlan isn't able to complete coherent sentences, neither can the store owner. When she's lifted and dragged by Elena to her lap, she groans, but then the pain that was re-awakened by all the movement starts to drain away and warmth floods back into her where it was starting to feel cold and numb. It's gradual, but after a little while, she relaxes in Elena's arms. "Watch out, Lach'll get jealous," she says quietly to Elena a weak smile appearing and then disappearing. She grips onto Elena, it's by no means a strong hold, either. A bit of coherence returns with all the control and power she's receiving from her younger friend. "Oh God, I don't want to die, Elena."

It's some feat to get Lachlan to let go of Cass. Elena's words are basically falling on deaf ears, for just as Cass is going numb, so is Lachlan. He's not thinking clearly and is thus focused on pressing on the wounds to stop the bleeding, not on calling for help or listening to anything outside of his head. He can magically keep Cass alive and heal her wounds through sheer force of will, of course. When the jacket comes into play, he seems to recede back into reality, but he is still very hesitant to let go of Cass when Elena starts to drag her over. There's another flare-up of misplaced overprotectiveness and it looks as though he might shove Elena away, but he quells it and picks up the cell phone in a bloodied hand. The emergency number is dialed and he speaks into the phone shakily.

"You're not going to die," Elena says firmly, stomping down on her own rising quell of panic somewhere deep inside her. "We're not going to let you. Just hang on. Hang on, Cass." She grips her friend even tighter, as if she could lend her own strength to her fading friend/adopted older sister. The front area of her brain is starting to burn. She could feel her burn, too, as she keeps it up. This was one of the drawbacks of her abilities - she has to keep willing it to affect someone consciously, and to keep a body alive with this much damage was difficult.

Drops of blood start falling from one of her nostrils. But she doesn't stop. Not until they get here.

Whenever Lachlan ends the call, a few minutes later, the wail of sirens can be heard somewhere, loud and blaring. They should be there in a few minutes.

Just as quickly as the moment of clarity came for Cass, it's gone. Even with Lachlan panicking and dialing 911 and Elena soothing her, it's hard to keep coherent thoughts strung together. It's just too exhausting. The warmth and the lack of pain make it just too easy for her to close her eyes. Because of Lachlan's earlier command, she tries not to. They droop and then snap open again a couple of times before, finally, she doesn't have the strength or power of will to open them again. Though she's still breathing shallowly, the store owner is unconscious.

The call doesn't take long, even with Lachlan's stammering and inability to be too terribly coherent. It's probably good that he's hung up by the time Cass starts to fade, otherwise the operator would be subjected to panicked screaming to "hurry the bloody fuck up, she's dyin'". (Well, the operator was subjected to that already, but it wasn't so much screaming as it was forceful speech.) "Fuck, fuck, fuck," the Scotsman hisses when Cass' eyes close. "/Fuck/. Cassie?" He reaches out a hand to give her another shake, this one slightly rougher. "Wake up." Shut eyes mean bad things in such situations, and he doesn't seem to notice that she's still breathing. As mentioned: not rational.

A few more minutes, and the ambulance pulls up, screeching to a halt in front of Enlightenment Books. A couple of EMTs wheel the gurney/stretcher around the alley and hurry towards Lachlan, Cass, and Elena. "Sir, sir you're going to have to let go of her," one says in a business-like fashion, just as the other EMT drags Elena away from where she is. She quickly rubs her nose, but her focus is still on Cass. If they're successful at getting Lachlan to let go of Cass, they'll start seeing to the bookstore owner.

"It's bad, we need to get her out of here now," says one of the EMTs. And with a count of three, both load her up on the stretcher after slipping an oxygen mask over her head and doing their best to stem the bleeding. Then, they start wheeling her out.

Elena remains where she's standing, the front of her shirt and her jeans soaked through with blood as she watches the stretcher get wheeled away. Whenever they get a move on, she'll follow. No doubt Lachlan's going to want to ride in the ambulance with her.

There's no verbal protest from Lachlan when the EMTs arrive and start to peel him away from Cass. There is definitely /physical/ protest, though. These are /strange people/, not Elena, and Cass is unconscious. He's much more hesitant to release his girlfriend into the custody of these people, professionals or not. Still, he's finally muscled off to the side where he stands watching in dumb shock. When Cass is loaded on the stretcher, he is immediately following as closely as he's allowed, Bonnie hot on his heels. He will definitely ride in the ambulance with her. There's no way they'd keep him from doing so. And once he's climbed inside the wagon, Bonnie attempts to do the same — and he doesn't try to stop her either. He doesn't notice, or he doesn't seem to care that a dog probably is not allowed to ride in an ambulance.

"I'll follow," Elena says, snagging Bonnie by the collar. "I'll see you there, Lachlan." Seeing the Scot the way he was right now is heartbreaking, really, but she lets them go, the ambulance doors closing and watching it take off down the street. Holding onto Bonnie, she drags out her cellphone and calls a cab. She'll take Bonnie with her to the hospital - maybe she can leash her outside. She doesn't really have access to EB, and it was too far away to drop her off at her family's place. So once the cab comes in, she gets in with Bonnie, with the directive to go to Beth Israel.

On Lachlan's side, the ambulance gets through traffic and gets to the ER in a few minutes. Cass is wheeled out quickly, and is admitted for emergency operations. Pushing through the double doors, Lachlan will be forced to do the one thing he's not really good at…

Wait.

The waiting room in Beth Israel is crowded. But at least it's not that far from the OR that Cass had been brought into. Unlike Mount Sinai where the prestigious hospital have waiting rooms and operating rooms separated by floors. At this point, Lachlan will have to depend on doctors to let him now the progress of Cass's surgery.

A few minutes later, Elena arrives. Bonnie has been leashed out front, and Elena begging the security guard outside to keep an eye on her. Considering the fact that she was blood soaked and frantic, the security guard doesn't have the heart to refuse her. So she hurries into the waiting room to look for Lachlan, and ask about Cass. The Scot isn't easy to miss - he was tall, big, and growly.

Bonnie whines when she's snagged and prevented from climbing into the ambulance, and she sulks and looks very upset after the ambulance has gone. Scary things are happening and she can't be with Mama or Papa.

At the hospital, when he's forced away from Cass once again, Lachlan is very hesitant and the nurse has to actually push him backward and block his path to prevent him from shoving through the doors leading to the operating rooms. He spends the first few minutes pacing the waiting room, then sitting and holding his face in bloodstained hands, then pacing again. It's a bit of a spectacle: a shirtless, bloodied Scotsman wandering around ashen-faced and looking as though someone just … well, shot his best friend. Which they did. When Elena arrives, Lachlan is in the process of irking the nurse at the admittance desk.

"How much bloody longer's it gonna take?" he demands in a voice pitched with exasperation and terror. "They've been in there fer hours!" Maybe only a few minutes. But it /feels/ like hours.

The nurse looks a little - well, she looks a little scared of Lachlan right now because he looks a little bit like a crazy person. "Sir, please, they JUST put her in the OR a few minutes ago, you have to understand that this is going to take a little time. We're going to do everything we can for her."

"Lachlan!" Elena says, moving over to try and pull the Scot away gently from irking one of the nurses. "Come on, we have to wait over there, the doctors will tell us if there's any change." She was exhausted already, but she'll try her best to….well, probably not placate the Scot, there's no placating the guy. Not right now. But she does try to lead him away from causing an incident that would cause him to get thrown out of the hospital, and that's not something he would want.

"Why can I no' see 'er?" the Scotsman growls at the nurse. "S'no' like I canna stand the sigh' o' blood!" Because Lachlan being in the operating room is /the best idea ever/. Yeah. The best thing for Cass right now is to have her boyfriend flip out and beat one of her surgeons with a bedpan because the guy may or may not have cut something he shouldn't. Suddenly, there's an Elena pulling on his arm, and the Scotsman doesn't attempt to resist. He's easily tugged away from the desk. "They're no' lettin' me in ta see 'er," he informs Elena plaintively. She might notice he's trembling — something not visible, but definitely detectable to the touch.

He's shaking. Elena turns around so she could hug him. She's never hugged Lachlan before, but he's HUGE…at least she can get her arms around him though. "Lachlan they can't let you in because they have to keep the OR sterile," she tells him. "You can't go in there without a gown, gloves, a good, long shower and medical training. If they bring you in there, she could….she could…." Die of infection on top of everything else. "….contract an infection." She's NOT going to tell Lachlan they're probably opening her up as they speak in an effort to stop the internal bleeding. "Just…just…please sit down, okay? I know it's hard, but you have to try." Try to sit down? That's not the point. The point is Lachlan has to -wait-.

In the OR, Cass is lifted in the operating room table, and the crew of surgeons called in on the emergency procedure crowd around her. Clothing is torn open, cotton swabs are out to stem the bleeding, and of course the instruments. Someone is monitoring the young woman hooked up to the machines to keep an eye on her vitals…

"Doctor, we're losing her."
"Get the paddles."

The trembling is a lot more apparent when Elena hugs him, and it doesn't get any better. He doesn't really return it; Lachlan simply rests his arms around Elena reflexively and stares forlornly over her head at the doors leading into the operating area. "But … she's no' … s' …" The rest is just incoherent, panted, weak, and somewhat high-pitched mutterings. The Scot is on the verge of a complete breakdown, so it doesn't take much to get him to sit. There he remains, burying his face into his hands. God, this is a nightmare. He wants to wake up now.

She drops next to Lachlan, a hand on his shoulder as he buries his head in her hands. Elena blinks back the tears, and takes a deep breath. Her stubborn expression returns on her face, and she continues doing her best to at the very least keep Lachlan under control. "She'll be okay, Lachlan," she murmurs. "I know it." At least, she BETTER BE. Otherwise Lachlan would probably destroy a good chunk of New York City. But she doesn't say anything else, turning her eyes to the OR. They JUST brought her in…..there wasn't going to be word for hours. She's been in this position before, she knows what to expect by now.

There's no sobbing on Lachlan's part, but he /does/ cry. It's silent and hidden by his hands, which is precisely how he would prefer things. Several deep, shuddering breaths later and he grinds at his eyes with the heels of his hands — then he pauses and stares down at said hands as though hit with a sudden realization. "Fuck," he mutters, "'ve got blood all over me." Cass' blood. Eyes still reddened and watery, he stares down at the stains with an almost surreal expression, as though he doesn't remember where it came from.

"Okay. Okay, come on. Let's get you cleaned up." And by 'let's', she means….she'll take Lachlan to the men's bathroom and he can take care of it there. At least it'll hopefully take him from staring at the door. She'll try to get him up from the chair - and if she's successful, she'll lead him towards the bathroom. He needs to clean up, and he needs a shirt. She needs to get him some sort of….maybe an extra Scrubs top.

As before, it's not hard to move Lachlan. He is easily pulled and guided onto his feet, and he continues to stare at his hands and arms and the flecks and smears of blood on his torso as he's led off. It's only after they pass the doors that he seems to snap out of it and hesitates a step. "Wha' 'bout Cass?" he asks, brow furrowing in sudden panic. If he leaves the waiting room, he won't be there if the doctor comes out. Maybe if he leaves the waiting room, Cass will die.

"Lachlan, these things take hours," Elena says, trying to be soothing. "We won't hear anything for a while. Just go get cleaned up, okay? I'll……try and find you a shirt." Oh god. OH god. She looks around - it's not like she could just steal scrubs from someone here. She might have to lift someone else's clothes. So much for her crime-free record, now she's stealing shirts from a hospital. She shakes her head. No. She will ASK. Just because she was hanging out with questionable people DOES NOT MEAN she should succumb….

As she passes by a row of chairs while leading Lachlan to the bathroom, her hand moves up to just yoink a t-shirt that's draped on the backrest of a chair while the person next to it is sleeping.

Sigh.

There's no further resistance from Lachlan as he's led to the men's room, handed his new shirt, and ushered inside to clean up. Nevermind that it's not his shirt. He's not even fully aware of where it came from. Inside the bathroom, he stands at a sink and proceeds to wash the blood from his hands and arms. There are a few other men in the bathroom, but washing off bloodstains is a long and involved process, especially when there's /so much/ of it. The men already in the bathroom filter out after a few minutes, leaving the Scotsman alone. He finishes washing, dries off with numerous paper towels, then picks up the shirt to pull it on — only it's too small. It doesn't fit on his larger frame. He tugs at it, trying to force his arm through a sleeve, trying to squirm into it, but the laws of physics are against him. The shirt's sleeve rips along the seam, and it's just too much for Lachlan. He yanks the thing off and throws it against the wall with a frustrated cry. It appears that this is the straw that broke the camel's back, for then the Scotsman wilts, falls to the floor on his backside, draws his knees up to his chin, and begins to sob uncontrollably.

Outside, Bonnie begins to howl next to the security guard holding her.

Outside of the bathroom, Elena leans against the wall, thumping the back of her head over and over again lightly behind her - basically a growing habit whenever she's in a hospital and a friend is on the table. She takes a deep breath, feeling tears pool into her vision, but she wipes them away with the back of her hand defiantly. She is oblivious to Lachlan crying inside the bathroom for a moment - which is a good thing, otherwise she'll cry too. She drags her phone from her pocket and looks at it. She doesn't want to. She really doesn't want to put more on his plate. But she made a promise.

She flips through her directory, and dials. She leans back against the wall and puts it to her ear, closing her eyes for a moment and waits for the other end to pick up. And when it does… "Peter, it's me…it's Cass. There was….." She pauses, pressing a hand hard on her mouth for a few moments. Another breath is taken, and then she continues. "We're in Beth Israel." She can't go into detail. Or she'll lose it. And she has Lachlan to take care of.

The Security Guard blinks at Bonnie. "……Jesus Christ, you scared me!" He reaches out to try and scritch Bonnie a bit. "Can you do that to the tune of 'Brickhouse'?"

What is Peter doing when he answers the phone? He's laying in bed. In fact, he'd just gotten to sleep. He rolls over and picks up his cellphone and answers, "Yeah?" He's not quite awake enough to look at the caller id and see who it is.

Of course she answers that question just by her voice, and gets right to the point. "What? What happened?" But since she's not wanting to explain, he doesn't push it, just rolling out of his bed. "Beth Israel? Okay— I'll be there. You can explain when I get there."

She hangs up, Elena sagging against the wall…..this is when she hears the yell from the Scot inside. Her eyes are open, and she turns to look at the door. "L….Lachlan?!" She reaches in to grab the doorknob…and pauses, the MEN'S ROOM SIGN staring at her in the face. And then, she bites back a groan. The things she does. Taking a deep breath, she just pushes the door open and -ignores- the fact that there are other men inside the bathroom -staring- at her entrance, before they return to awkwardly….trying to move around Lachlan and out the door. And then there he was, Lachlan Deatley, the Scottish Surge……sobbing.

Her heart breaks a little. But there's a sense of relief too. Because Lachlan didn't kill anyone who was staring at him cry like a baby.

She walks over towards him, getting down on her knees and reaches out to hug him on the side, around the shoulders. She doesn't say it's okay, because he won't hear her anyways. But she just hangs onto him while he cries.

Truthfully, Lachlan is wholly unaware of anyone else in the bathroom, otherwise he wouldn't have collapsed into a sobbing heap in the first place. But now that the floodgates have opened, they're not easy to close. Even when Elena appears and embraces him, he simply leans into the gesture slightly and continues to cry, arms curled up over his head, face buried into his knees. It really is a humbling sight.

Bonnie doesn't understand what the guard is saying, of course, but she does duck her head a bit when the man speaks to her. But it doesn't sound like he's yelling at her for her outburst, so she wags her tail just slightly and turns her head to peer at the door leading into the waiting room. She wants to go in there, but she knows she isn't allowed — so she sits on her haunches, throws her muzzle to the sky, and proceeds to howl more, long, high-pitched, and forlorn.

Oh god. Elena miraculously manages not to cry with Lachlan - a test of willpower if you will, but she just stays there as he keeps crying. She doesn't even have the heart to cast apologetic looks at the other guys in the bathroom passing them. So she squeezes Lachlan the best she can. And whenever his sobs subside, god knows how long that would be, she looks over her shoulder towards the door. "Come on, Lachlan….we'll see if there's any word. Do you….want to stay here? I could just….I could talk to them for you, just…" Just give her something, man! She's trying here. She pulls away a bit just so she can look at his face. Part of her is tempted to knock him out, because….he probably needs the rest. But she doesn't, he wouldn't appreciate that, especially when he's so anxious for word.

It does take a good while for Lachlan's sobbing to subside, but when it does, he just sits there curled up, shaking and sniffling. When Elena speaks, he shakes his head in response. It takes him a moment to unwrap his arms from around his head, and he begins to wipe away the tears from his face and eyes. "'M fine," he grunts hoarsely. Like he wasn't just bawling his eyes out. Another few moments, after he's made sure that all traces of his breakdown have disappeared, he gets to his feet and brushes off the back of his jeans. Then he heads for the door. Totally fine. Still shirtless.

"Okay. Okay." Elena gets up from the floor and rubs her face….she isn't aware of the blood streaking onto her skin at the gesture, she hasn't cleaned up herself and she had been holding onto Cass to keep her alive before the paramedics came. So she opens the door and lets Lachlan step out once he's ready, and she quietly requests a nurse to get him a spare Scrubs top or something. And then…she blinks at the tattoo. When did he gets that? So she follows Lachlan back out into the waiting room, heading for the familiar, white linoleum floors and the general hubbub of other anxious people waiting for word on their loved ones. She'll make him take a seat, and she drops on the chair next to him.

A few minutes later, a tall man in green scrubs, a facemask pulled down from his face, and a bandanna to pull his head back looks around the waiting room and checks his clipboard. "Mr. Deatley?" he calls out into the waiting room. "Is there a Lachlan Deatley here?" He checks the clipboard again, as if unsure how to pronounce the name.

Once in the waiting room, Lachlan slumps into a chair tiredly and props his elbows up on his knees, clutching his head between his hands. There he remains, eyes closed, breathing focused. He's trying to concentrate on something else — Bonnie, perhaps — to keep his mind off of the crawling pace that time seems to have adopted. Bonnie has stopped howling and now sits very quietly and still, feeding off the voice in her head. When the doctor comes out and calls Lachlan's name, though, the Scotsman leaps to his feet and Bonnie lets out a responding bark at the sudden jolt of excitement. "Yeah, tha's me," Lachlan responds, striding over to the doctor anxiously. "Wha's up?"

Elena stands up slowly, clutching at a spare shirt that she had managed to retrieve from a nurse so Lachlan can wear it and stop freaking out (or turning on) old ladies. She doesn't approach the doctor though - she wasn't the one who was called, the man was. So she just stays where she is.

The surgeon exhales, but he's had practice for this sort of thing. It came with the job. He looks at Lachlan in the eye and speaks up. "We're doing everything we can for Miss Aldric, and things could change in a few hours but the damage….you have to understand it's pretty severe. Even if we airlifted her now to a better facility, she won't make it through the transport. We're…..doing our best to stop the bleeding. It's…" Not going very well. Lachlan can see it on the doctor's face, but the man continues. "We're doing everything we can. We'll update you every hour, but she's got a long night ahead of her." At least one hopes so anyway.

No no no no. No no. No. This is /not/ the news that the surgeon is /supposed/ to be giving Lachlan. The news is supposed to be happy, relieving, "oh-Mr.- Deatley-she's-going-to-be-fine". The more the doctor talks, the more obviously agitated the Scotsman becomes. /No/. This is /wrong/. "Where is she?" he inquires, and it's not a nice sound. It's a low growl, and his expression has hardened dangerously. That's right. The surgeon gave him the wrong news, and therefore it's his fault. Forget that thing about not shooting the messenger.

This is the second time in a week that Peter's flown to get to a location after an emergency call. The last one, he at least knew what happened to the person, at least that they'd been shot. This time he just as an indication of who, and a where. Considering the who, he's going to go out of his way to get there quickly. At least it's night time.

Unlike some previous flights, he avoids crashing into anything when he lands a few blocks away from the hospital and runs the rest of the way into the ER entrance. Looking winded, breathing as if he'd been running, and not to mention quickly dressed, he looks around for Elena, since she's the one who called. He'd not even taken time to button up all the way on his shirt, which he actually reaches up and starts to finish buttoning as he walks inside.

Oh crap. Elena moves forward, she's NOT about to have Lachlan kill the messenger, otherwise he's going to get thrown out and that's the -last- thing anyone needs right now. She doesn't move to touch him yet, but she's going within range. She needs to try and calm him down, if this situation escalates. "Lachlan…" she murmurs, in warning, but it's not like Lachlan listens to her.

The surgeon holds his ground. He's had a lot of things thrown at him over the course of his career. He keeps his steady gaze on Mr. Deatley as he growls at him. "We're doing everything we can. She's still in surgery. Like I said, we'll update you every hour on her condition, but right now she's still under the knife…..we won't know anything for sure, but we really need to stop the bleeding first. We're doing everything we can, Mr. Deatley."

Whenever Peter enters the ER, it's not hard to spot Elena, though her back is to him and is still clutching the spare shirt she managed to get for Lachlan. Her white, button-down shirt is splattered in crimson as she hasn't had the time to clean up yet. Lachlan seems to be having a brewing confrontation with the surgeon. Oh, and he's shirtless. That's pretty hard to miss, granted his jeans are stained with blood too.

"Yeah well, yer no' doin' /enough/!" Yep. Lachlan's just exploded. If Peter didn't spot Elena and Lachlan before, he would definitely be hard-pressed to miss them now. The Scotsman has just begun shouting. The whole /room/ knows where he is now. "Yer a bloody /doctor/! Yer s'posed ta /fix 'er/!" That's what doctors do, right? They save lives. And this one is obviously inadequate. Lachlan takes a step or two forward as though to move past the doctor and into the operating area. "Wanna see 'er."

If the woman he works for happens to be involved in something that requires a hospital, Peter isn't surprised that her boyfriend is present, just like he's not surprised he's freaking out. God, please don't let her neck be twisted or anything. This is one time he'd almost hope his painting means that she can't die from anything else… at least until they stop THAT from happening too. Moving up quickly, he finishes the last button at the top and steps closer, "Elena, Lachlan— what…?" The doctor is glanced to. The chances of getting back into the OR area— he knows they're rather small.

"Lachlan, come on, they're trying their hardest!" Elena pleads, reaching out to try and grab Lachlan's arm as he tries to shove past the doctor into a - sterile- area where Cass is being worked on. "We have to wait, please!" Compared to Lachlan though, Elena's not one in terms of strength, if he really wanted to push forward, he'll just end up dragging him with her. Oh god. Oh god. It was escalating. Please let people live. Please let people live.

The surgeon puts his hands up to try and prevent Lachlan from getting in further. "Sir you can't, it's a sterile area, we can't introduce people from the outside in there, you'll put her at risk of infection and we've already got enough to worry about while she's on the table. You have to go back to the waiting room, sir." Please don't let him have to call security. He doesn't want to have to call security. He knows the guy's upset because his girlfriend got shot.

At the sound of Peter's voice, Elena turns to look at Peter. "Cass got shot. I don't know what happened, I just happened to be in the area after," she explains in a hurried rush, trying to tug Lachlan back from the surgeon before Lachlan decided to twist -his- neck. She turns her head, to think at the young Petrelli brother, because she doesn't want Lachlan to hear what she was going to say next.

Lachlan doesn't exactly yank his arm out of Elena's reach and he /does/ stop moving forward, but that doesn't mean he's complacent. Far from it. "/I wanna see m'bloody GIRLFRIEND/!" he openly shouts into the doctor's face. What he needs right now is a good brawl, then a good deep hole to crawl into and die. He seems to be seeking the former at this moment. Peter's arrival is not noted. The Scottish Surge is a bit distracted right now.

Oh man— This definitely could get worse. Peter catches the thought thrown at him, and is… reminded too much of a certain other incident in the past. Not the first time he met Elena, but one of the first times they bonded. A phone call out of the blue, a friend shot. But there's so little they can do, there's no way they would ever be let back there. "Excuse me, doctor… Is there an observation area? Just a place we could… see her? Without entering the OR." Some hospitals have them, some don't, most don't allow people to watch, even close family, but… It'd be best if he could get close to her, get his hand on her, touch her skin and try and use his healing ability. But he knows that won't be allowed, even if he insists he's a nurse. He doesn't work at this place, and he's certainly not going to be allowed to just walk in at this point. If only he'd been called earlier.

"I'm very sorry, Mr. Deatley, but you can't at the moment. We're doing everything we can so you can see her soon." The surgeon takes several steps back. Hospital security is already moving towards them a bit, but the doctor lifts his hand to stay them. As stated before, he's seen this often. With that, hearing his name called on the PA system, he turns to start heading back into the breach. But he pauses, at what Peter asks, and he turns around to look at him. Scrutinizing the three worried faces in front of him, he sighs. "We do. Follow me." That was, at the very least, a good compromise between Lachlan's demands and hospital regulations. He just didn't think it was a good idea considering how agitated the Scotsman was.

Eric. Elena was living in a sea of deja vu, but with the stubborn expression on her face, those who know her can clearly surmise that she's trying not to show much on her face. She nods, and glancing at both men, she turns around to hurry after the doctor, letting go of Lachlan and jamming her hands in her pockets so she could squeeze the lining of her jeans tightly.

The surgeon opens the double doors, and leads the trio into the observation area. It's not much of one, they're a little higher than the OR, one of those rooms designed for med students to observe a procedure while it's being done on real time. The clear panels are slanted slightly, so the observers can peer down into what's happening. There's blood on white, and a crew of five surgeons are working on Cassandra Aldric's unconscious form. There's too many of them to see detail, thankfully, but there's a lot of blood, and a lot of machines.

Lachlan's already expressed his distaste for how much and how well the doctors are doing. He's about to do so again when Peter pipes up helpfully and manages to get them an in. Then he follows along behind the doctor silently. Once in the observation room, he moves to the windows and presses himself up against one, staring down at Cass and the doctors silently. His frown increases, but he's content — or as much as he can be, at least.

There's a relieved sigh as the doctor agrees and leads them in, and Peter glances towards Lach and his state of undress, but says nothing. They're not going to a sterile area, they're just going there. If only he could get inside and touch even just her hand. There's so little he can do behind a glass wall other than watch, and use his medical knowledge to know if they're doing anything useful. "Been a while," he says to the man, trying to focus on a topic other than 'how she'd get shot? what happened?' because he's not sure that would make things any better. The painting incident wasn't the last time they saw each other, but that doesn't mean they had much time to bond the last time. The older man was breaking a window and breaking into the store to try and take down his crazy mind-wiped girlfriend. Towards Elena, he uses the same ability that helped him hear her to ask something fairly simple… Can she— can /they/, help her from here?

Elena is quiet, watching Lachlan walk over and press himself on the glass, watching Cass get worked on. She keeps her gaze focused on him - Lachlan being around anchors her to the situation at hand, and when Peter's telepathy enters her thoughts, she looks over at him. Helping Ramon with his abilities has helped her learn how to communicate with telepaths at least. She looks away from him, removing a bandanna from her pocket to dab at the blood on her nose. ~The same way like last time I think….my abilities can help keep the body functioning, the heart beating. Papa was able to use his telepathy to keep Eric from succumbing to a coma by anchoring…I don't know. Keeping his subconscious conscious I guess….~ She pauses, and she walks over, pressing her hand on the glass, and willing her control towards Cass. But having strained herself earlier for a prolonged, continuous amount of time, she feels the burning in the front part of her brain. Blood starts dripping from her nose again, until the pain is too much. She takes several steps back, covering her nose and turning away. Ugh.

Despite the fact that Cass is in there being operated on, Lachlan is not terribly upset to be watching. He's really not squeamish, and he's seen the insides of people before (though he can't see much right now). When Peter speaks to him, the Scotsman snaps out of his own thoughts and turns his head to glance at the other man. "Huh? Oh. Yeah. A while." He sounds a bit distant, turning his attention back to the operating room and leaning his forehead against the glass. He is, of course, wholly unaware of the conversation happening between Elena and Peter — in fact, it's almost as though he's forgotten they're even present. When Elena steps forward, though, he catches her out of his peripheral vision, and he's able to pick up on the nosebleed. His brow furrows a bit. "Ye a'righ'?"

If she can keep the biorhythms doing their job properly, and Peter can speak towards her mind to keep her engaged… together they might be able to do something to help her through this. He's just about to start thinking towards Cass when… he glances over and sees Elena turning away, able to catch the bit of a nosebleed the same as Lachlan. "Elena— stop— It's okay— I'll do this." He doesn't know how much she's done already, but he can guess it's a lot. It isn't every day people bleed from the nose when using their abilities. She's not turning blind, at least. But that could be the next step. Doing both at the same time— beyond him. So he decides keeping her physically alive is more important to start.

Pressing his hands down in the sill of the window, he looks inside intently and— how can he do this without physical contact? That's something he's never done before. But she's capable of it, so he must be too. Concentrating on a surge of emotion entirely reserved for a certain young lady not too far away— someone who'd just been trying to do the same thing… he lifts one hand out and reaches towards her. If he can't touch Cass— maybe touching her will help.

Don't mind him. He's just reaching out for her hand, and drawing on everything of her within him— and sending it through the glass, the air, through the doctors— and towards the woman on the operating table. Find the parts of her body. Push them to keep her alive. His face starts to pale slightly.

The doctors continue working on Cass a level below them, seen through the observation room clearly. Suddenly, there is beeping, the machines hooked up to her flashing a bit. A few of the surgeons make way for the defibrilator, and the paddles are charged to jerk Cass back to life. Or at the very least attempt to. It takes several tries, the young woman's vitals are flatlining, but the doctor in charge of the surgery doesn't give up. Another charge, increasing the voltage, and at 'Clear!' the paddles are on Cass again.

"My head feels like it's gonna explode," Elena mutters, wiping her nose with the back of her hand and ignoring the streak of red spreading over her knuckles at the gesture. She looks over at Lachlan and smiles at him just a bit. "I'm okay. Honest." When Peter tells her he'll do it, she looks over at him, and nods wordlessly, stepping away from the protective shield. This is when the beeping from the operating room starts, and she turns to the side to gape through the glass panels. Her jaw sets. Her heart starts to beat rapidly. Cass. Cass. Cass, no! At the hand reaching out towards her, her own comes up all of a sudden, grabbing onto Peter's like a lifeline and squeezing. "It's like trying to will a part of yourself in there, and let her carry you away," she instructs quietly, swallowing to quell the dryness in her throat. "Slowly. Get in there first, you'll feel it when you've done it."

"Clear!" *ZAP* "CLEAR!" *ZAP*

Several tries. The doctors look about to give up, unaware of the fact that help was coming form above - and rather literally. A sudden surge occurs in Cass's heartbeat, and the doctors renew their vigor in the operation, doing their best to stabilize her now that they've been given a break. The work quickly, more instruments are brought out, and the defibrilator is on standby.

Lachlan raises an eyebrow at Elena when she says that she's okay, but then Cass flat-lines and his attention is jerked away. Oh God. God, no. Panic returns to the Scotsman and he goes from leaning against the window to pressing his entire body against it. "Fuck," he hisses. "/Fuck/. Cassie?" He pounds on the window with a fist, as though that will magically help the surgeons revive her — like trying to wake up a goldfish that has gone still. "Cass!" When the defibrillator does its job, Lachlan releases a sigh of relief and lowers his head, closing his eyes and drooping against the glass. God. He can't take this.

Get in there first… Let he carry you away. Peter listens to what she says, and eventually decides to close her eyes. And all of a sudden he feels it. There she is. It's strange, being able to see and feel everything going on in her, with no contact of his own, with a barrier between them, and air. She's going to live. He won't let her die. Not like this. Not now. People all have to die eventually, but for this one— it will be in a bed at the age of ninety surrounded by grandchildren all vying for her affection. That's how it should be.

When he pushes her over that particular bump, her heart beating again, he almost sags where he stands, needing to brace himself on something solid, while the hand holding Elena's loosens. There'd been a hard grip there for a moment, one he almost worries might have hurt her. "It'll be okay— it'll be okay…" he says outloud, voice a little breathless. Once he thinks he can pull back on controlling her biorhythms, he starts to consentrate on another ability— telepathy. Not to read her mind, but to push his thoughts into hers.

Cass… You can't hear him, but Lachlan is calling for you. Just hang in there. Who can I trust to teach me if you're not here?

That's an indirect way of saying he needs her.

She exhales a breath when Peter pushes Cass over the hump. When Peter starts to sag, Elena reaches out to brace him upwards. He can't keel over now. "You did good," she murmurs encouragingly. "You did good." She looks towards the glass panels now, watching Lach practically writhe in pain against the glass. This is why the surgeon didn't want him anywhere near the OR in the first place, but she bites down on her lip. She doesn't know Peter's trying to attempt telepathy.

There doesn't seem to be anything….and while Cass's body doesn't respond outwardly, whatever's happening….the doctors are able to stabilize her. It takes a few more hours….but when the doctors peel off their blood-soaked gloves to signal the end of the procedure, Cass Aldric is still alive. Barely, but alive. After sewing her back up, and cleaning her up a bit, she can be seen being wheeled out of the OR with a full oxygen-dispensing machine and a mask over her face. She looks deathly pale, but it looks like she'll live.

One of the surgeons enters the observation room after a moment, and promptly tells Lachlan that while they are able to stop the bleeding, they would have to wait 24 hours just to be sure about Cass's prognosis. They are moving her to the ICU and if he'll follow him, he can take her, finally, to where she is.

Throughout the rest of the procedure, Lachlan watches the monitors and the surgeons like a hawk. Every little blip, every cotton swab, every tiny movement is observed carefully and tensely until it's finally over. When Cass is being wheeled out, the Scotsman straightens up and starts to become restless again. Cass is out of sight. Cass is out of sight. He rubs at the back of his neck and jaw, clenching and unclenching his free hand nervously. As soon as the doctor enters to give him the prognosis, and as soon as the man offers, Lachlan is out the door and following toward the ICU. Even if Peter teleported them there, it wouldn't be fast enough for the dog trainer.

When Lachlan moves, Elena makes sure Peter's able to stand on his own, before she follows the dog trainer, sliding her hands in her pockets and schooling her features carefully. Inwardly, the young woman is bracing herself for what she sees. It was hard enough seeing Cass in the OR, but when she's actually in touching distance? She follows, stone-faced, and her eyes forward. She doesn't look at Lachlan, Peter, or anyone else. She just concentrates on getting to the ICU.

The ICU is actually a couple of floors up from where they are, the entire unit takes up the whole fifth floor of Beth Israel. As the double doors of the elevator slide open, the doctor leads them to where they wheeled Cass. In one of the rooms, with only one other patient inside, Cass is situated as comfortably as she could be on a cot. She is wearing a hospital gown now, and there is a little clip on her index finger hooked up to a machine monitoring her heartbeat. The little oxygen machine is on the side of the bed as well, the little indicator expanding and contracting at every breath Cass makes through the mask and tube that had been slid into her throat and in her lungs. She looks pale, her hair matted a little by her own blood. But she's alive. Barely, but alive.

She steps into the room, and moves to the side. Lachlan's got dibs.

As soon as he's crossed the threshold of the ICU and spots Cass, Lachlan lets out a quiet oath — "Jesus." — and strides forward to her bedside. He examines her with his mouth slightly agape, then grabs a nearby chair and drags it forward to sit next to the cot. God. She's so pale. He takes her hand and kisses it, then lays his head on the mattress nearby and sighs. He stares straight forward, face blank, eyes focused on nothing, hand resting over Cass'. By the look of things, he might just stay that way until Cass wakes up again.

Hours. It took hours. And Peter didn't talk to her constantly through the whole thing. Sometimes he switched back to the girl next to him's ability, still holding her hand, and helping the doctors through tough spots. His medical training told him when her vitals were starting to drop before she needed major attention. The switching, back and forth… took some of a toll. He's looking paler when they're led into the ICU unit, moving in beside Elena again, and looking up at Lachlan.

There's a long pause, before he reaches over and puts his hand over the one her SO isn't already touching, and again he closes his eyes. He was able to heal most of Jane's gunshot, but it looked like more of a graze than a fatal wound. He could only heal part of what was wrong with his brother… part of what happened to Elle those times… and he knows the chances of her suddenly sitting up with one touch from him is none. But—

The warmth of the healing power he has passes from him into her, and starts to work on some of the damage almost immediately, but reaches a point where it can't do any more. This isn't his regeneration, after all. Maybe since all he saw it heal was partially healed, that's all he can do. When he opens his eyes he looks up at the monitors. At this point, he's definitely pale. Is that all he can do? Probably… "Talk to her, Lachlan," he finally says, releasing her wrist and taking a few steps away.

She watches Lachlan's reaction, seeing him reach out to take Cass's hand and kiss it. Even the toughest men in the planet could crumble into a shell when it came to someone they loved. Elena folds her arms over her torso, leaning back against the wall to watch the two of them. Just one of the reasons why she—

She could feel moisture in her palms. She lifts her hands up to look at the blood smeared and caked on her hands. She isn't squeamish, but knowing it was Cass's made her sick to her stomach. Still, she keeps her face mostly expressionless - she's becoming good at that lately. This is when Peter steps forward, and drags Cass out of the woods entirely. 24 hours? What 24 hours? At least she won't die overnight.

When Lachlan is asked to talk to Cass….it sounds private. She isn't comfortable being there for that, namely because if she was in the same position she would want to be alone too. She pushes away from the wall and takes a couple of steps to the door. "I'm…" She clears her throat. "I'm gonna…" She shows her hands to both men, black and red from fresh and caked blood, hoping that would explain it all. With that, she turns around and takes several steps out, moving towards the bathroom and closing the door. She locks it behind her.

Turning on the faucet, she washes her hands, red tinged water swirling around the drain. A few tears drop, and she manages to hold her hand to her mouth to keep from sobbing. Instead, she shakes her head vehemently, and lifts a knuckle to wipe at her eyes. She takes another deep breath, and splashes some water on her face.

By the time Peter starts to work his magic, Lachlan has basically shut out the rest of the world and is therefore completely unaware that the other man is even standing on the other side of the bed until Peter speaks. That brings Lachlan back to reality and he lifts his head off the mattress with one quick movement. Then of course, what Peter says leads the Scotsman to believe that Cass has magically woken up. His expression brightens for just a split-second, and then he sees that, well, Cass isn't really awake. His face falls again, brow furrowing. "She's no' awake," he grunts to Peter. "She canna hear me."

There's a sigh and Peter reaches out and puts a hand on his shoulder— his shirtless shoulder. "But she can feel you. Just talk to her. Even if you just want to read the newspaper to her." In some ways that kind of thing is all for the person doing the talking, but there's some evidence that it helps. "She's out of danger, but…" Elena's left. He knows why, but he's still worried. "I'm going to go check on Elena. Put a shirt on, and talk to her…"

And before he goes, he reaches you again and touches her arm, just a light brush. "I expect to see you back to work soon… you're not getting out of teaching me that easily." Not that she'd ever tried to get out of it.

With that said, and hoping that Lachlan takes his advice, he moves out of the room and goes to find the nearest woman's bathroom. Of course he won't go inside, but he'll lean against the wall and wait. And lean a little heavier than he probably would have on a normal day.

She leans heavily on the sink, and Elena reaches out to grab a length of paper towel, tearing it from the dispenser to bury her face in it. After a pause, she crumples it up and tosses it in the trashcan. She takes a step back, gathering her hair back and using a claw clip to keep her hair back. She wrinkles her nose at her appearance. Her shirt was blood. Her jeans were bloody. She looks a little pale and her eyes are bloodshot, but she looks fine, and composed. She even tries a smile. It looks a little stiff.

Ugh.

Shaking her head, she turns around, reaching to unlock the door and open it slowly, stepping out and taking a deep breath. She turns around, and blinks when she sees Peter leaning against the wall. Pausing, she takes a step towards him, inclining her head to the side a bit. "….how is he?" she asks quietly. She means Lachlan, of course, but she furrows her brows at Peter too. He looked a little pale.

Lachlan's brow wrinkles even more. She's out of danger? But the doctor said … well who cares what the doctor said? The doctor is incompetent and stupid because he gave Lachlan the wrong sort of news. Peter is more trustworthy. Peter /regrew a Goddamn hand/. Therefore, Lachlan believes him. And it helps. He watches the man leave, then glances down at the top Elena handed him sometime during the operation. He'd totally forgotten he was holding it, even. He doesn't even know when she gave it to him. It's stupid-looking, but he puts it on anyway, then rests his head on the mattress again and sighs. There's nothing from him for several long moments before he finally decides that, outside of the other patient in the room, he's alone and can safely talk to the unconscious Cass without looking like a complete moron. He peers up at her face forlornly before he lifts his head again and speaks, staring at the hand cupped between both of his: "Hey, baby." It's very quiet, nothing more than a soft prayer. "'M … 'm really sorry." He swallows hard, squeezes his eyes shut, and takes in a deep breath through his nostrils. "God, Cass, why'd ye have ta jump inna way?"

Whether Lachlan speaks to her unconscious self or not… Peter won't know. He's outside the room. And looking at a young woman emerge from the bathroom looking… "She'll be okay— so he likely will too. Be a long couple of days for him, long road to recovery too, but— she'll be okay." As long as she doesn't slip into a coma for too long. He's not sure he managed to do much more than just touch the surface with his own thoughts. Maybe he'd been too cautious not to push them in too harshly, not wanting to cause her more pain. Mind-reading makes his head hurt when the voices are loud. Maybe her father is just… better at this than him. More subtle. Not as hard.

"Needs a little time alone with her first." And hopefully he'll remember to put a shirt on. However, there's someone else here who's not quite letting the shock go right now, and that— he pushes away from the wall and straightens, stepping towards her and taking her hand, looking for the nearest exit. "Come on, think we both need some fresh air." There's an ulterior motive to this. And he thinks she's the one who needs it, not him. If he includes himself in the equation she's more likely to go along with it, right?

"Well, that's good," Elena says, looking a little relieved. "I suppose it's going to be rough for him no matter what happens." Maybe then Peter could've used his healing ability on Cass, but Peter's color was off. She's seen this a few times before. She furrows her brows a bit at him. "….are you sure you're okay?" she asks. "You look a little— " But she doesn't finish her sentence, because he steps towards her and takes her hand. She blinks a little bit at him, watching him with a perplexed look on her face as he looks around for….th exit? Were they leaving?

She's tugged along, and she follows - but she's still a little confused. "I….okay, but what about…?" she says, looking over her shoulder as she passes by Cass's room. Well….if he was talking to her, it was best that she didn't return there too quickly anyway. He might be saying something unmanly and Lachlan wouldn't stand for that if he was heard. So she follows after Peter, though she looks over her shoulder still now and then. Finally, cool air hits her when she moves to the outside.

Outside of Beth Israel, New York

Leaving behind the hospital room of Cass and Lachlan, Peter understands that if the man takes his advice… whatever he says should be for his ears alone. Possibly hers, if she catches any of it coming out the the haze of medicine that they've put in her to keep her under during surgery. Definitely not for anyone else. Whatever he says— belongs to him. Though this is not why he's dragging Elena outside. Not at all.

All the way there they see people passing by them, going about their business, the normal hospital rush. This particular area is very busy, after all, with panic and worry in the air, as well as the general feel of a hospital. The smell, the sterility of the walls and floors, the sound of footsteps and noises echoing. The beeping of machines.

Once the wind hits their faces, he takes in a slow breath and then moves her a little further along. "I'm okay," he says in some reassurance. Whether that's true or not. He looks better in the lower light of the outside, though. The florescent lights made him look far worse than the outdoor ambient light does. It's once they're far enough that he turns back and tightens his hand on hers.

Neither of them see it. But he feels it, feels it half because he's suddenly very aware of certain things. He shouldn't have done that. But at the same time he /needed/ to. "You can stop faking a smile now," he says seriously, looking down the small differences in their height. "Seen you smile enough to know when you're faking it… No one can see you anymore…" Except him of course. "And with the cars— doubt they'll be able to hear you either." That is why he wanted to go outside. No walls for noise to echo agains, no people wandering by to listen in.

Just the two of them and God.

She follows, still a little perplexed as she's out of the hospital. The rush leaves them, as if fastforwarded to a place that's more tranquil and cool. It was already approaching two in the morning, and when Elena moves out of the ugly fluorescent lights and into the night, she could see the empty streets, and the dim light of the moon and stars overshadowed by the lights of the city. Her breath comes out in small, white puffs. It was cold this evening. And she still has no idea what Peter is up to.

"Peter, where are we going?" she asks, she can't help but ask. Because ….well, she wasn't a mindreader. That power went to another member of the Gomez family. She was…

"What do you mean you're alright, you look…" Pale. Like death. He looks sick. She keeps following though, right outside and in the walkway leading around the building. And then he stops, and turns to look at her. She couldn't help but blink at him. "….wh…." She can stop faking it now? She looks up at him, the confused expression isn't going away. Looking at him in the face changes all of that, it looks like. Epiphany strikes her like a mad, speeding bus through a crowded intersection. "I…." She shakes her head. She doesn't want to. "No I can't," she tells him stubbornly. "Lachlan's….him and Cass are…"

Her lower lip quivers, and she looks away, taking several deep, ragged breaths. "They…." she tries again. But she can't help it anymore. Why did he have to go on and do that? She was doing fine! She was doing just fine and then he comes along and….

Her face scrunches up. Her hand comes up to cover her face. Even now on the verge of sobbing, she's still trying to hide it. God, she can't be this weak. She wasn't much to look at as it was. Goddamnit.

Looks like death. Warmed over, even. There's heat to his touch, but that might be the cold breeze that's swirling around them. The difference may be all she feels. Peter has to believe he'll be all right. Having been on the brink so many times in the last few months but not actually falling over… maybe he's a bit too confident when he repeats, "I'll be okay." His voice certainly thinks so. It makes him sound hoarse.

Her protests, her worries about the other two, make him shake his head. "They're busy right now…" That's the best explaination he can give. It's when she starts to crack, and then covers her face, that his hands move upwards, touching her shoulders, and then the hand, trying to pull that away. "It's okay. Listen— I told Lachlan to talk to her… because he needs to let it out. He needs to… he needs something to push his worry, pain… frustration into. So do you." What about him? All of his has been pushed into a single thing. Helping others. First Cass, then Lachlan, and now this young woman who's fighting her own emotions. She called him. Maybe it was to help keep Cass alive, but he'd like to believe it was for another reason.

"It's okay to— it's okay to cry— it's okay to let some people see you cry." He'd like to think he could be one of those.

"I'm…I'm not…..I'm -19-," Elena says, almost desperately. "I should be handling….handling my own -crap- myself, I don't….I shouldn't be…." But he wouldn't let her. It was starting to become a familiar pattern, ever since he convinced her not to go confront Orion Granger by herself. Turned around, his hands on her shoulders and the hand pushed away from her face, her dark eyes glisten, but she's being stubborn. Those tears don't fall, not yet. Until she shakes her head vehemently, a single tear falling to land on her cheek.

"You have other things to worry about," she points out, looking up at him and shaking her head. "You have…other things to…" She didn't want to be a burden, but he knew that already. She explained it to him. She didn't know what it was that made her try and keep her own problems away from Peter. Typically when she was in trouble, she called other people but him. She didn't know why it was such a problem. She didn't understand where the hesitation was coming from.

Finally when he tells her it's okay, she shakes her head. "It's not okay. It's not okay," she repeats, though it's too late. The floodgates are open, and she's sobbing openly, her forehead falling forward against his collar. In halting breaths, she manages to squeeze out: "I…d….don't want….you…to…- see- me like this! It's…you…."

But nothing more coherent comes out. She tries to keep -quiet- at least, and for the most part she's able to, but it doesn't change the fact that she's ruining his shirt.

"Should know by now— people don't tend to handle thier own crap by themselves no matter what age they are," Peter says, not smiling, but there's a hint of a joke in his voice, that— well— it turns into a cough. Ignore the cough. It didn't happen. When the first tear falls, his hand shifts to catch it, thumb it away, and then shifts back down away from her face. Just don't hide from him… "Right now— I'm worried about you," he says, not quite the most reassuring thing ever, but it's the truth. He couldn't lie right now to save his life. "And you're not a burden." Didn't have to say it. She said it once already. He has a good memory. Just like he has a good memory of her in a chicken suit.

It's when she finally leans against him that his hands move again, this time lower to wrap around her and hold her against him. "Then I'll close my eyes…" He can't see her if he's not looking, right? But that still means he can hold her, run his fingers over her hair and dirtied shirt, and try and soothe some of her tensions away while she cries into him.

His shirt doesn't mind being ruined. Though it's getting ruined from two directions as some warmth rises up from him, causing sweat. The warmth can certainly be felt. But right now… he just needs to get her through this. "Know how much you love Cass. I remember— heard it— She'll be okay."

Just don't turn him into a liar, Cass.

"I was…..gonna be different," Elena tells him petulantly in between sniffles, when Peter points out that people don't tend to be able to handle their own crap themselves. While this position would normally embarass her, she doesn't have room for it, feeling his thumb brush away the single tear from her cheek. At the last, when he confesses that he's worried about her, she shakes her head. "D…don't tell me that…" she tells him softly. "Don't…" Ugh. Why? Why did he have to make this so difficult? She was doing fine. Just fine.

When he's wrapped around her again, she can't help but cry harder. God, she was such a wuss. She hated crying, by nature she was a happy creature, and she was more prone to laugh and get mad than be sad and cry. This week has been testing that propensity, however, and she didn't necessarily like it. But he manages to soothe her a little bit, her fingers coming up to clutch tightly on the back of his shirt, her sobs muffled against him. "I do…" she says, somewhere there, and faint. "And I know…"

After a few minutes, she quells her sobbing. Nothing more than sniffles or hiccups remain. She pulls her head a little bit away from him, even if she doesn't go far. She takes a deep breath, and keeps her eyes closed. "I'm okay," she murmurs. "…I'm okay…." Her fingers clutch over the fabric of his shirt just a little tighter. "Th….thanks a lot."

After a pause….she looks up at him and she smiles a little bit more genuinely despite her tear-streaked face. "…you make things so difficult, you know that?" she tells him quietly, but she means this fondly.

Too late. Already said. Peter isn't about to stop worrying about her right now. This is a situation where he's worried about himself, but he's not the one who held her together before she got to the hospital. And he's— trained in holding in his own worries like this. If he would be allowed the chance, he'll get upset over Cass later. Right now, though…

The minutes that pass are spent much the same as the first few seconds, his arms around her, rubbing up and down her back, touching her hair at times. From him, there's mostly silence, as he stares past her shoulder, breathing. Only when she stops, when she says she's okay, and gives thanks, does he let his arms loosen and pulls back enough so she can look up the small distance between them to him, and he can look down at her. "Knew you'd be okay…" he says, assuring that he had faith she would recover too. As long as she let it out, probably. "You're welcome…"

It's her last words that earn the hint of a smile, and what might have been a laugh— that turns into a cough. Maybe… he should let the invisibility drop. As he does, he leans in, eyes closing again, and rests his forehead against hers. They're visible again.

And that's when everything falls apart.

As close as they are, she'll feel harsher breath against her face, brushing her nose, lips, cheeks and chin. Rather sudden gasps. Followed by equally sudden inhales.

The warmth that she felt from his skin isn't just differences in temperature.

And the moment he knows it's happening he lets go and tries to back away, only to stumble a bit, and fall on his side, staring wildly, looking like he's trapped in headlights for the moment.

At this point he's still breathing, still conscious. But apparently between flight, telepathy, her ability, healing and then invisibility… he's spent.

It was almost unfair. Elena didn't -want- to do this, she didn't expect Peter to do this. But she remains where she is, simply because she doesn't have much room to move. Part of her was reluctant - something she already feels guilty about the moment she realizes it. Perhaps this was why she was so hesitant even calling him about anything that comes up with her. ….too late now, however. She made a promise, and she wasn't the sort to break her word.

So while he soothes her, she does something rare for herself - she lets him. Save for her father, she's never been treated this way before. Getting used to this, from him, was dangerous. She knows that deep down. She's trying not to depend on this sort of behavior too much, granted she was too independent for that anyway. But this was so rare that she succumbs utterly, closing her eyes and letting his fingers toy with her hair. As exhausted as she was, she could sleep like this. It was almost tempting. She wonders if she could actually sleep on her feet.

The invisibility fades away, and she feels the weight of his forehead on hers. She can't help but close her eyes, and smile. She could feel his warm breath over her face - something that alerts her to the fact that she shouldn't be standing this close to him. She opens her eyes slowly…..just in time for them to widen as alarms slam into her thanks to her abilities. "Peter, wait— !" she says, pulling away suddenly. "You're— !"

And that's when he staggers backwards and falls, his eyes staring at nothing. She doesn't process what she's seeing first - but then she's moving again. Elena has always been more comfortable with action. "Oh god. Oh god! Peter!" She gets down on her knees next to him, dropping and feeling her skin bruise at the impact on the concrete, reaching out to half cradle his body up towards her, her fingers cradling the side of his neck as she looks down straight into his eyes.

Inside, he was a wreck. The damage and the strain almost knocks -her- unconscious, it was so bad. But she looks up towards the entrance of the hospital. "Help! Please, he's hurt!" she calls out towards the hospital types lingering in the entrance as she looks back down at the younger Petrelli brother frantically. "Peter….you're going to be okay, you're just…" A MESS. A WRECK. God what did you DO?! What was coming back to her was so bad. "I can't fix you in one shot…not this time," she whispers. "It's too…"

The sun still isn't up, but it's closer to dawn now than it is to dusk. They were up for quite some time in the surgery. An hour's sleep is all he'd gotten when he recieved the phone call. And fate's giving him a chance to get a whole lot more. Only this won't be as pleasant. When she moves over him, props him up, Peter's looking directly at her for a few moments, before he starts looking past her. The heavy sudden breaths that continue make him shake slightly in her arms. The fact that he's still conscious, at the moment, is made clear by one thing. For the moment, he can still talk.

"Sorry."

The breaths cut in for a few more moments, ruining any attempt to craft words for the next few moments until… "Just… wanted…" There's more he wants to say, a few vowel sounds that break through in his breathing, but… no more words can really be heard, and— then he stops breathing.

That's one difference from the overload she fixed. His brain hadn't shut down his ability to breathe. And this time… he might need help breathing. Good thing he's right outside a hospital. That should speed things up nicely.

"Stop apologizing," Elena chastizes quietly. He was burning up - so hot it was practically scalding her. The damage is too much for her to repair in one shot this time. And when he tries to say more, she shakes her head. "Don't talk," she tells him, moving one hand to rest on his forehead. But before she could do anything to at least give him some comfort, he stops breathing utterly. Panic swells within her. Her first instinct was to do CPR. He can't NOT BREATHE, it'll damage his brain and that's the LAST thing he needs.

Thankfully the EMTs lingering outside heard her call, and they're already rushing towards the fallen Petrelli. Elena manages to move to the side when they slip an oxygen mask over him and pull him into a portable stretcher. Rubbing her face, she exhales a breath as she follows in after them. It's not so bad, right? He can regenerate, he'll be fine. This is just his body's way to defend itself before his abilities kill him. That's all. This is a GOOD thing. Medically.

Even if it doesn't look it.

Still, she follows after them, and make sure everything's in order before she calls Nathan and Heidi….and Elle. Elle too. Oh god. She doesn't even want to explain HOW he got into this position. She's not going home today, until his friends and girlfriend arrive.

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